We Look After Our Own
by redhuntsman
Summary: In the little town of Storybrooke, Sheriff Graham finds himself remembering things that shouldn't be real, and local waitress Ruby Lucas finds herself more and more drawn to the pull of the full moon. Back in the Enchanted Forest, The Huntsman and Red Riding Hood meet under dangerous and unusual circumstances. Will either of them have their happily ever after?
1. Alone Together

It wasn't that she hated the attention. No, Ruby loved knowing that people either loved her or hated her, because that was exactly what the colour red was all about, wasn't it? It was love and hate, it was two ends of the spectrum, it was what described her to a T. So she blamed her irritability towards Dr Whale on her tiredness from working a double shift and plastered a fake smile on her face, because God forbid she actually complained about his advances when she had, time and time again, rejected him. You know, for a doctor, he didn't seem all that smart.

She leaned against her broom, her eyes darting towards the closed sign, and pretended to listen to Whale yarn on about one thing or another. Maybe one day he would take a hint and let her get back to work- but then again, they had closed half an hour ago, and in that time she had wiped down all the tables, stacked the chairs, cleaned the bar, rinsed the espresso machine, and swept the floor twice, all while entertaining the good doctor. She deserved a better title than waitress. More like therapist. The pay would be better, anyway.

He paused for a minute to sip on his probably warm beer, and Ruby took that chance to give him a quick smile and dodge out the back for the mop and bucket. When she turned back, there was a hand on her bare waist and a hot breath in her ear.

"What do you say, Rubes?" Whale was obviously completely wasted, and she regretted letting him stay for so long. He was harmless, just... annoying.

"I'm not- you know I don't do that Victor," She dodged past him with the mop and bucket. He scoffed in a mocking sort of way, and went back to his chair to finish his beer and pull on his jacket. He pressed a smelly kiss against her cheek and made for the door.

"Night kiddo," He called out, and accidentally slammed the door in his drunken haste. Ruby gave him a half smile and sat down on his still-warm bar stool, exhaling when he knew he was definitely gone. There was a flash of headlights, and then was a pit in her stomach when she realised she hadn't taken his keys from him. Ruby dropped the bucket and ran out the door, only to crash into a hard chest. She stumbled back and fumbled apologies to run past them- the Sheriff, she recalled vaguely. But when she got to the gate, Whale's car was still out the front, and his silhouette lumbered down the street.

Ruby turned back to Graham and sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry, Sheriff, I thought... that was you pulling up, wasn't it?" Graham smiled at her and tucked a set of keys into his pocket.

"I got his keys, so I don't suppose I could bother you for a meal?" He asked, in that self-deprecating way of his, as if Ruby could ever say no to Storybrooke's own Sheriff. It helped that he lived at the inn too, and knowing that she and Granny would be safe every night made him worthy of countless lasagnas.

"Of course," she smiled and sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly, because she knew she didn't have to put up that pretense around Graham. He had been dropping into Granny's diner more and more often these days, but Ruby thought that with the arrival of Emma, and her appointment as his deputy, that he'd have more time to himself. There was a bundle of files beneath his arm, and she knew he'd be in for a long night. Ruby went back to the kitchen to make him his favourite while he settled in a booth.

This was how it was most nights of the week when she had the closing shift. Graham would come in for breakfast everyday (coffee, cream, no sugar, and poached eggs on toast), and most nights he missed dinner anyway, crawling back in at some ungodly hour for the leftovers. He would sit and do his work, while Ruby finished hers, in that comfortable silence between them that she always respected. He was one of the few good men in this town, one she was glad was her friend. His obligations to Regina meant he was never far from the Mayor, always at her beck and call, even though it was obvious that he was once attracted to Emma Swan, not the other woman of power. But she mad moved on and left their working relationship a little more than broken. See, Ruby was more than just a waitress. She knew more about the people of this town and how they worked more than she ever wished to.

She grabbed a knife, fork, napkin, and a glass of Irish whiskey, and laid them before him, snatching away files with a quick hand. He frowned and grabbed for them, but she held them behind her back.

"Eat, Graham. You can't appreciate the goodness of frozen lasagne while you're working." She messed his hair a little before placing the files on the other side of the booth, and returning to the mop and bucket.

Ruby slipped off her high heels and socks, and began pushing the warm soapy mop across the floor, when Graham spoke up. "When are you going to get out of here, Ruby?" She turned and saw his eyes scanning the files again, a scoop of lasagne on his fork, and huffed. She gave a shrug and continued cleaning.

"One day. Why?" She dipped the mop again and squeezed out the water. "You going to come with me?" She grinned at him, which in turn made him smile.

"Sure. Where're we going?" Graham teased, taking a sip of his usual drink. Ruby leaned her chin on the mop and pouted her lips in thought.

"How about Hawai'i?"

"Too hot,"

Ruby rolled her eyes, and tip toed across the wet floor to start a new section. "Antarctica?"

"Too cold!" He laughed and shook his head.

"Make up your mind, then! What about..." She twirled a little too fast, and before she knew it, she was slipping over, and fell on her back and elbow. Graham made a choking noise from his seat, and went to get up, before she waved him off, her blush peeking out from below her make up, and gingerly made her way over to his booth.

"Here." He slid his whiskey across to her, which took gratefully and pressed to her sore elbow. Graham frowned and slid closer, holding her wrist to inspect the bruise that blossomed beneath pale skin with calloused, warm hands. "Does it hurt?" She nodded and laughed off her own clumsiness, aware of just how close he was. And when she wasn't expecting it, Graham lifted her arm to kiss her sore elbow. She was too embarrassed to even speak, but her mouth dropped ajar just a little and gave a silent smirk. Graham laughed at her reaction and placed her hand back down, to return to his meal and work.

Sometimes, when she knew he couldn't see, Ruby liked to watch him. She loved people watching, and to be honest, it was half of her job on a slow day, but she loved the way he crinkled his nose when he opened his mouth to eat, as gross as that was. And the way he wiped off pasta sauce with the back of his hand without any regard for who was watching. But this time he did spot her, and smiled. "What?" he asked. Ruby shook her head and stood to finish her mopping, glad that there would always be comfort between them, even if he did kiss her elbow like a little girl who had fallen.

Sometime later, when the town clock began tolling for midnight, Ruby locked the front door, gathered her things, and stood by the counter. Graham was engrossed in his work again, while the waitress turned her back to him and swiped away the last of her lipstick on a tissue, like letting go of the day's difficulties, a giant weight off of her shoulders, a weight she knew she'd have to pick up again in 7 hours.

Graham's hand grasped her slim shoulder, and she jumped a little, not expecting him. His eyes- too big for his own good- looked at her with concern, and she inwardly kicked herself for acting like such a fool all night.

"Come to bed? Ah, I mean-" He spluttered on his words, and grasped his files with a tighter hand as Ruby barked out a laugh.

"You only had to ask, Sheriff," She grinned, and shoved his shoulder. Her eyes searched his momentarily, hungry for any kind of response, but met only empty eyes. She swallowed harshly and plastered that smile on her face again, not willing to ruin their friendship for a slip of tongue. "Unfortunately, I don't think Granny would appreciate it. Under her roof, and all." She leaned back against the counter, wishing she still had her high heels on to meet his eyes at their level. Graham blushed terribly, and scratched the back of his neck, letting her see a sliver of skin beneath his shirt before he dropped his hand again.

"You know what I meant." The Sheriff spoke quietly, and edged away from her, slipping a heavy stone like guilt into her stomach. She thought he knew who she was, that she was only kidding when she went along with his little slip up. Maybe he thought she really was the town slut too. She nodded, and gave him that same smile again.

The waitress replaced her shoes and socks, hit the switch for the lights, and together they walked out the back door to the inn. She didn't mean to make him feel uncomfortable at all, she just forgot how bashful he could be, how surprisingly innocent and wary of romantic advances the Sheriff had become over years of the bachelor life. The flustering warm cheeks _were_ sweet though, compared to the leering and smug glances of Dr Whale and several other men. Granny told her she deserved the looks they gave her, like she deserved to be treated like trash. Ruby was not trash, and while family was family and she loved Granny more than anything else in her life, there were times when she would give anything to be free of this constricting life. Ruby unlocked the door of the inn and lead the way up the staircase, when Graham's hand grasped her wrist and stopped her in her path. She hadn't realised the thoughts of her grandmother had sprung angry tears into her eyes, and like Graham knew exactly what she needed, the way he always did, he pulled her into his arms, where she buried herself against his chest.

Sheriff Graham may have been a little awkward when it came to the ladies, and more delved into his work than what was healthy. Hell, she had half a hundred flaws and more that even Granny didn't know about. But Graham had always been better than the others because he didn't judge her, and he wasn't about to start when the dark-haired girl stained his vest with tears. She sighed heavily, and stepped back.

"'Night, Graham," Ruby said quietly, letting go of her grasp on his vest to jog the rest of the way up the stairs, and enter her room, the first door on the left. Buried beneath her blankets she could let out the breath she didn't know she had held in, and soon sinking feeling of self-pity followed.


	2. Big fire, big burn

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews and messages! This is my first fic I've written in a long while so I apologise if I'm a little rusty. To answer various questions, this fic is set at the beginning of Season 1, and I'm going to work around/through Graham's death. And yes, there will be a lot of smut eventually. The chapters will go in order of Ruby, Huntsman, Red, Graham until the plot thickens and I might need to just stick with Ruby and Graham. ****Your patience is appreciated! c: ~Georgia **

******ps. If you want to listen to a little inspirational music, I was listening to The Wolf by Fever Ray while writing this.**

******Disclaimer: If I owned OUAT do you think Graham would be dead? _Nope_. This is not mine.**

* * *

The other soldiers laughed at him, he knew, both behind his back and in his face, yet the Huntsman gave no care on the outside. On the inside he was hollow, but he needed no heart to feel shame. Shame because the Queen ordered him to her bed, not the other way around. Embarrassment because she had him on a tight leash, and each time she let him wander she'd tug back with a vicious grip and venomous laugh. The Huntsman had made love to other women before the Queen, of course, but this was not making love. It was mechanical, automatic, and as repetitive as his duty as a soldier. And he hated it. He hated _her_.

It was the day before the King's Moon when she called him to her chambers again, and almost automatically he began to unlace his breeches and shrug off his shirt. Regina was laid upon her sprawling bed, like a spider waiting for prey, and watched him with trained eyes.

"Huntsman, what do you think you're doing?" She asked with that hypocritical smile and ridiculing voice. He frowned, and tugged his shirt back on.

"I thought-"

"I know what you thought. Armour yourself, you're going hunting."

Just the idea of being in the woods once more sent a thrill through his skin, but never for hunting. He hunted only to feed himself, and it was a great sacrifice, not a sport to be held with such honour as it was in the villages. The Huntsman met her eyes before she spoke again.

"As I'm sure you know, the King's Moon is rising this week. There have been reports of a true Child of the Moon wandering the outskirts of a village in the North. None of the villagers know who the beast truly is, but under the King's Moon it's powers will increase tenfold." The Huntsman shivered at this. His true family, the real wolves, followed the Children of the Moon without question, but these days they were rare sightings, and the wolves of the wild had for all intents and purposes none to follow anymore. A rogue one in a small village before the King's Moon meant certain devastation.

"What would you have me do? I told you I would kill no wolves."

At this Regina leapt from her throne of pillows and like magic she was before him, fury made fire made flesh raw in her soulless eyes. The Huntsman stumbled back a pace before she spat her command.

"You will do as your are told, Huntsman, before I crush your broken heart and sprinkle the dust over my breakfast. Do I make myself clear?!" If she could have killed with a look, the Huntsman would have been long dead. He nodded obediently, swallowed back all the insults he wanted to scream at her face, and turned to leave.

* * *

Before he had even arrived, the Huntsman could hear the villager's horns and drums, fat, heavy, clumsy feet, and hearty boasts of killing the beast. He had opted to travel on foot rather than horse, but the journey had taken him all day; it must have been midnight by the time their drums and horns settled. The elders of the village chanted and played their hymns, while the children danced around the mounted head of a black wolf. Even the sight of it set him on edge, and in the small village, where summer had settled like a wet blanket of humidity, his brow sweated and skin tingled in the night air.

The Huntsman may have never had seen once of these Children of the Moon, but even he knew that was not the beast they searched for. It would have turned man once more following his untimely death. They had beheaded an innocent wolf for the sake of settling their people, and before he got carried away, the Huntsman wiped that stray tear from his cheek, and turned back to the woods.

The trails of the humans had torn through the forest floor, their litter and destruction lighting a path anyone could see even in the pitch black of night. On the outskirts of the village men and women were mourning their fallen, and word of a pack lead by the greatest she-beast anyone had seen passed through the camps and to his ears. He made no attempt to set up camp, and packed his things to track this she-beast.

He counted five fallen wolves by the time he found her den. All of them dead by the hand of man, not nature. Still the horns and drums from the village pounded away, but the Huntsman heard only the sounds of dying animals, and a blood-curdling howl to the south. He was on his feet then, arrow nocked and loaded for a moment's notice, flying through the woods as silent as the wolves he had grown up with. The cave was deep, and dark, ringing with the sound of an injured beast, and before he even stepped into it, he knew he'd never forget this cave for as long as he lived.

A wolf of unnatural size, twice the weight and height of any other he'd known, limped ahead of him, her tail sitting awkwardly, and right shoulder bleeding profusely. If she heard him she made no sign of it; in fact, it was like he wasn't there at all. Especially not when the wolf's fur shrunk away, and it's tail disappeared into it's spine. It's ears curved and maw formed a delicate mouth, but this only took a split second before the beast before him became... a girl. A naked girl, with her back turned to him, her hair caked with blood, and a gash to her bare shoulder that would have left a grown man crying.

The Huntsman shifted behind a rock shelf and cursed himself for staring for so long. Not only were his defences down, but it was indecent, especially when she was so wounded. He heard the shuffling sound of fabrics, but it was a whimper that brought him back around the corner. Her dress was gathered at her hip, for it seemed her shoulder wound left her unable to move her arm. Magic in this world always came at a price, and it appeared this girl paid for it dearly, but not even he as a great victim of sorcery could deny that the way her wounds healed was incredible. The girl had scooped her hair around her neck to look at the place where her injury once left her crippled, when her golden eyes caught his. The Huntsman's breath caught in his throat, before he could manage to spit out but three words.

"What _are_ you?"


	3. You'll find me in the shallows

**A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely messages and reviews! I'm trying to write these as quickly as I can when inspiration hits. This chapter's inspiring song is Shallows by Daughter, and is from Red's point of view. Everything in italics is Red as the Wolf; the rest is human Red. It's a little longer than the Huntsman's chapter as I want to set up exactly what happened after ****_Child of the Moon_**** and what the King's Moon is and does to werewolves. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned OUAT Henry would have picked up a sword and fought some monsters by now. This is not mine.**

* * *

Snow White left Red's new cottage a week before the next full moon, heeding her friend's advice for once and using that time to get far away from from the area as she could. In Red's short time with Quinn and her mother they taught her everything they could, from foraging for the best shelters, to finding the yummiest deer and rabbits. They even lectured her on the moons, and how each one was different. The Worm Moon signified the end of winter, when worms and other creepy crawlies dug their way from the frozen earth to greet spring. The Thunder Moon was named for the storms that so heavily ravaged the Enchanted forest, and of course the Wolf's Moon, in the dead of winter, when silly hungry wolves howled outside of villages, desperate for food in the dead cold.

Each and every moon signified something important for the Children of the Moon; they needed no mathematics to signify their calendars, only the night sky. The King's Moon was the most significant, rare, and dangerous of all. Anita said it was when the moon's pull on the earth was stronger, and ran their blood hotter and wilder than ever. Children of the Moon were made more powerful in those 4 days, even in their human form able to hear, see, smell, feel, and taste better than ever. Their strength increased tenfold to an extraordinarily terrifying power, and she would be so fast not even the smartest Hunter could catch them.

It was the middle of summer when Red's first King's Moon arrived, and she began feeling it a week before. It made her needy and wanton, desperate for company, before the wrong kind of company arrived. An entire pack of wolves migrated into these woods she so dearly loved, threatening everything the villagers nearby held dear. The villagers screamed and ran terrified for days, until in the town square they had rallied a hunting party so large, Red was certain she and her friends had no chance. They lusted on killing wolves, it seemed, for the first time she visited as a woman she saw the pelts and the stuffed heads, and knew their was not the first war they would win.

_The King's Moon arrived, and with it the most difficult transformation she had known. Usually she barely felt her bones breaking to form her wolf, but this moon left her tired, slow, and needy. She felt every bone snap, each claw grow and each tooth push aside to bare great fangs. The other wolves looked up to her, acknowledging her as their Alpha, and with this Red did her best to keep them safe. Howls filled the woods, creating an effect that made twenty wolves sound like fifty._

_The battle was bloody, but Red pushed on, ignoring the pain in her shoulder to protect those who trusted her. A mother and her pups sheltered in the cave she created for their den, but Red turned to fight a group of cowardly men with nets and let herself get distracted. The mother was slaughtered and the pups stolen, to make coats for the monster men. They fought with silver arrows and silver-headed spears, her only real weakness during a King's Moon. There was nothing fair about this war._

_She had killed five men by the time it was over. The great black wolf they took for a token was beheaded, and carried away as a trophy, while Red licked the wounds of her fallen friends, and howled to the moon as she watched them all die. She was not fit to be an Alpha, let alone a good wolf. There was blood gushing from her shoulder, and gore all over her maw and claws. She vaguely registered the blood in her ears by the way her steps sounded so muffled, more quiet than usual._

_She padded back to the cave, her tail between her hind legs, limping all the while begging her human self to not cry. The pain in her heart was greater than the pain in her shoulder, like she had taken all their deaths herself. She wanted to ravage the village, to show them what a true wolf could do. All she could manage was one transformation, then a desperate need to sleep. Bones cracked, nails replaced claws, and fur shrunk to reveal pale skin once more._

Gingerly, Red shrugged on her dress, tugging it up her hips and letting it rest on her waist, because the shoulder wound was not healing. With a steady grasp and bared teeth, she pulled the silvery arrowhead and cried out as it slowly budged from her skin, before flinging it across the cave, hissing in her hatred for men. The hot sting of magical healing began again then, a relief she didn't know she was desperate for.

Tucking blood-matted hair across her shoulder, Red turned to inspect the smooth skin when the scent of man hit her nose again. She was certain they had forgotten about her, and panic rose in her chest when she spotted him. Tall, armed with silver arrows, and a familiar red scarf. She had never hated someone so much. Who was he to question what she was? He was a monster too. She pulled on the last of her dress, and with incredible speed, had him pinned to the wall of the cave.

"I am a woman. _You_ are the monster," Red hissed, eyes flashing gold in her anger. "You and your people killed my friends. Twenty wolves and their pups, for the sake of a little land?" She shoved him tighter against the wall then, before he brandished a hunting knife and pushed her away. She braced herself from tripping over before baring her teeth in blind rage.

"I did not kill the wolves!" The man shouted, his knife ready to defend and his pulse racing loud in her ears, even from here. Not the kind of speed that a liar would beat at. He was just scared.

"Why do you have that then?" She pointed at the discarded bow and silver arrow. He swallowed and frowned a little, before making his admission.

"I am under the Queen's orders to subdue and kill the Child of the Moon harassing this village." He said quietly, eyes meeting hers. She thought before that they were just brown, emotionless like the other hunters. They were the deepest blue she had ever seen in a human. Nonetheless, she prepared herself to change back to the wolf again, before he spoke up. "But I can't. I won't."

Red frowned. She knew this man, she realised. Snow had spoken of him once. He belonged to the Evil Queen, but before, he was a Huntsman. He protected the wolves, lived with them, loved them. He _abandoned_ them. She gave a huff, and turned back to her things. "You should leave, Huntsman." Her voice was low, barely disguising her obvious dislike for him, no matter how much he was cared for by the wolves. She pulled on her red cloak, tucking her hair into the hood, and turned to him. His expression had changed from wonder to sadness. Perhaps now he knew what the forest had become for wolves since his betrayal.

She strode to the mouth of the cave, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. The Huntsman's eyes were full of tears, tears that broke her façade long enough to make her regret treating him with such disdain. He did care for the wolves. Why wasn't he here with them then?

"What?"

"...Who are you?"

"I'm just a girl. Let me go."

He held her tighter then. If she wanted, she could have crushed his grip.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." He spoke sincerely, and for another brief moment she let her anger fall away. The mother wolf, whose pups had been taken, laid slain in the cave, and the sight of it churned her stomach to tears again.

"I am too, Huntsman. May you always run free beneath the moon's pale light."

Red ran then, as fast as the wolf in her heart, and when she was certain the Huntsman could not follow her, she ran faster for half a day until she finally came to her home. Beneath the warmth of her blankets by the roaring fireplace, she finally let herself grieve. For her fallen family. For the fallen wolves, and for the Huntsman who should have been there but was too late to save them all.


End file.
